


Morning Fix (Barista!AU)

by chasingatinydream



Series: Coffee Fragrance (Barista!AU) [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ - Freeform, ATEEZ Fanfiction, Ateez fanfic, Cute, F/M, Fluff, barista!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 15:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18075725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingatinydream/pseuds/chasingatinydream
Summary: "i've been missing you a latte lately."there's a reason you always come back to this coffee shop, rain or shine. The atmosphere is lovely, the coffee addictive, but you're here for another reason.The barista, Kim Hongjoong.





	Morning Fix (Barista!AU)

You always go to this specific cafe for your morning fix.

Every morning, without fail, before the start of lessons, even when you don’t have lessons, you always make sure to head to the Twilight Cafe to grab a cup of coffee. Your friends tease you occasionally, saying that the baristas must add mermaid’s tears or dragon’s blood into the coffee as some sort of secret ingredient, because there’s no other way they could get you coming back for more every single day so religiously. You merely smile over the rim of your coffee cup, thinking “Well, they’re not completely wrong.”

But the secret ingredient isn’t in the coffee.

It’s the barista, Kim Hongjoong.

The handsome young man that is Kim Hongjoong has been working at Twilight ever since you entered the college, but even though you’ve sat at one of quaint tables by the window side more than once just to admire his dream like features, you’ve never actually… noticed him in particular.

Most, or might you be so bold as to proclaim, all of the staff in Twilight are remarkably good looking, so Kim Hongjoong had just been another pretty face. Sure, he was one that you might have vaguely recognized out on the streets, but not really one that had stood out to you very significantly.

Until that day.

You’d stayed awake the entire night prior, rushing though your year end projects which had been due the next day. There was a presentation that you had to do today that counted towards your final grade, but winging it with less than eight hours of sleep in the last two days didn’t sound very promising. You needed a morning fix before attempting to … and you needed it fast.

So, exactly five minutes before your presentation had begun, you had dashed over to Twilight faster than the speed of light, panting for a cup of hot coffee over the counter.

The barista, whose face you had recognised vaguely, had looked shocked for a moment as he took in your flustered, unkempt state. You probably looked like you’d been run over by a backing car several times over, with dark bags under your eyes and an even darker expression on your face. 

Time had passed by agonisingly slow, drop by drop, as you watched the hot liquid of the coffee trickle into the cup much too slowly for your liking. Every hair on your body was crawling with impatience, the seemingly insignificant ticking of the second hand of the clock on the wall grating on your ears like nails scratching over the surface of a chalkboard, your teeth grinding together as you watched the barista scribble something on your cup-

“Could you please hurry up?” The words came out harsher than you had intended, and for a split second the cute barista flinched from the viciousness of your voice before he managed to pull an apologetic smile together on his face. Quickly, he passed you your cup of coffee, piping hot and smelling of sweet caramel, lowering his head apologetically.

“I’m truly sorry, miss.”

Something had tugged at you, perhaps it was a little bit of guilt, a little twist in your gut, but then the clock and its damn incessant ticking caught your attention before you could say a word of ‘sorry’ to the poor barista. Two more minutes before your presentation was due. Glancing desperately between the young man and the minute hand steadily inching closer and closer to twelve, you made up your mind.

You’d apologise to him next time.

So, grabbing your coffee, you had turned and dashed out of the shop.

The coffee had been amazing, aromatic, fragrant, and ultimately strong and sweet enough to keep you awake throughout the whole presentation. In fact, it had been so good that after drinking it, you had felt absolutely awful for taking out your stress on the barista from earlier. Maybe there really was some sort of secret ingredient in the coffee.

With the resolution to apologise to that poor barista firmly in your mind, you had lifted a hand to dispose of the cup, but before you could let go of it, some ink markings on the paper sleeve caught your eye.

You frowned.

Why hadn’t you seen that before?

Sliding the sleeve out of the cup, you had turned it around carefully to read the writing on the surface. And to your immense discomfort, two very opposing emotions blossomed in you at the same time.

You look stressed, so have an extra sugar to make today even more sweet! I hope everything goes well for you :) Cheering you on!

For a moment, warmth that reminded you of knit sweaters and freshly brewed lattes rose in your chest. Then, you paused, sighed and stared at the innocent paper sleeve for a long second, before tucking it in your pocket, the sleeve feeling unnaturally heavy.

“I really need to apologise to him.”

And so you had.

The first time you’d returned to the cafe, awkward and a little uneasy, he was already there, wiping down the counter with a clean cloth. Luckily for you, the cafe was mercifully empty, most of the student body that used to frequent the place currently at lectures or back at the dorms. Back turned to you, he was humming along to the song playing over the radio, blissfully unaware of your presence. You were tempted to just give up on the plan and run for the door, but you steeled yourself with a determined exhale and clenched fists. No! You had to apologise!

You squeezed your eyes shut and tapped on the bell at the counter.

“Hello, welcome to Twlight Caf-” The barista turned around with a wide smile, ready to greet you… until he saw your face.

For a second, he faltered, nearly dropped his cloth too, before his mouth pressed into a thin, nervous line. Your heart sank, did he think you were here to complain about him, or something along those lines? He tried to force a smile onto his face, but it looked fake, like a mask of clay. 

You hated it.

“Excuse me, miss, but is there something you need-”

Sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves, you shoved a piece of paper forward into his hands.

He glanced down in surprise, he hadn’t expected that in the least. The paper was a crumpled post-it, a little torn around the edges and a little damp from sweat, but the words written on it were clear as day.

A latte, just like how you made it for me that day.

And beneath that, in smaller writing:

I’m sorry.

The polite smile on his face slid right off and for a moment, you were almost worried he might reject your apology. But before you could hightail it out of there with your tail between your legs, another smile, brighter and so much genuine than before pulled at the corners of his mouth, turning his face from show-stoppingly handsome to near radiant like the sun itself.

Then he grinned at you, cuter than a man his age should be able to look, and you swore that your heart sputtered to a stop in your chest for a long, dangerous second.

Oh no.

“One ‘I’m Sorry’, coming right up.” He teased, a smirk playing on his lips, a little mischievous, near devilish, almost, and you had merely stared at him with your mouth hanging wide open, unable to believe that he’d just teased you like that.

When he passed the steaming cup of espresso and milk to you a few moments later, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickling the edge of your nose, you had smiled and thanked him a little awkwardly in disbelief, nearly tripping on your way out of the cafe.

And when you glanced at the paper sleeve of the cup once more, you saw the exact same handwriting there, neatly scribbled at the side in black marker.

You need to buy another 50 cups of coffee before I forgive you! See you around, Sugar!

You didn’t know why a furious blush spread across your cheeks at those words, or why a smile tugged at your own lips at the stupid nickname, but you slipped off the paper sleeve off the cup once more as you passed by the trash bin.

And put the sleeve into your pocket once again.

Have an amazing day >.< you can do it! (○｀･Д･´)9

You look down today :((( Have three sugars to sweeten that pretty smile of yours! Don’t forget to brush your teeth tonight, though!

Your smile is sweeter than sugar, but here’s some more to make it even more irresistible! All the best for your interview today!

How are guys just like coffee? The best ones are rich, hot, and can keep you up all night! :D (okay that was embarrassing ignore that I’m not that kind of guy-)

Oh no ;-; you stayed up all night! Don’t worry, I can’t see those eye bags, you still look like you’re going to crush today amazingly! Here’s a cup to start your day off on the right foot!

Why did the coffee file a police report? Because it was mugged :”D (please forgive his bad jokes he was googling them at 3am in the morning) THAT WAS JONGHO IGNORE HIM PLEASE

I’ve been thinking about you a latte lately SAN STOP THAT’S JUST WEIRD-

(ง •̀ω•́)ง✧ nearly at the weekend! You can do this, Sugar! The boys have been teasing me a lot πーπ but hmpf ignore them if they say anything silly to you! Visit the cafe on the weekends too, I’ll make a special treat for you if you do!

You sit at the couch in your dorm room, flipping through the stack of paper sleeves in your hands fondly. Each sleeve documents the journey of your blooming friendship with the barista behind the counter of Twilight Cafe, the one who works the morning shift and has a smile sweeter than sugar itself, Kim Hongjoong.

Your finger traces the last one fondly, the one he’d given you yesterday as you had rushed to your next lecture. Waving you off with a bright smile, he’d given you a small wink and a grin, one that made your own cheeks flush bright pink and a smile to bloom on your face, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

It’s Saturday today, and you’re blessedly free from any lectures or lessons, a rare occasion. But then again, Hongjoong has indeed promised you a cup of special coffee if you swing by the cafe, so shaking your head at just how soft you are for that boy, you slip on a pair of shoes and make your way across the campus grounds.

The bell chimes as you push the door open and Hongjoong immediately turns around to grin at you as you enter. Smiling, you slide him a yellow post-it across the counter and he grabs it eagerly, eyes scanning the words with excitement. As strange as it is, you and Hongjoong have actually never spoken a word to each other verbally, instead communicating through your little post-its and paper sleeves.

As much as coffee’s part of your morning fix, Kim Hongjoong has become part of your daily routine, slowly inching his way into becoming an integral part of your life.

I made it through the week thanks to Hongjoong’s special ‘I’m Sorry’ latte! Surprise me today ;)

Hongjoong looks up from the note to salute at you playfully and your heart flutters, before tucking the post-it in his pocket and moving to brew your coffee. Studying the way he moves, you watch his able hands as they work the machine, adding syrup and sugar just the way you like it. But everything he does looks familiar to you, as if you’ve seen it a hundred times (which to be fair, you probably have), nothing out of the ordinary. You cock your head to the side in confusion.

A few minutes later, he sets the cup in front of you, but this time, he’s nervously wringing his hands, fiddling with the hem of his navy blue apron as his gaze darts around, never lingering on your face for long. Then he squeaks out a hurried ‘goodbye’, barely intelligible, and flees into the back faster than you can blink, the other two baristas on shift now, San and Jongho, howling with laughter behind the machine. You’re a little befuddled, but you take the coffee all the same and exit the shop, glancing down at the paper sleeve.

Made with Love. Drink me!

Your heart melts into a puddle of something warm and fuzzy for a second at his sweet words and you smile fondly, raising the tab on the lid to take a sip. Then you freeze in your tracks, staring at what is written there with wide eyes, your mouth falling open.

It’s Hongjoong’s handwriting, alright.

XX XXXX XXXX

Call-ffee (Call me) maybe?

You reach for your phone faster than you ever have in your life, keying in the numbers with the urgency of a life and death situation. The last time he’s spoke to you had been the day you apologised to him, and for the first time in a year, you’re going to hear his voice.

The dial tone cuts off. The call has gone through.

A male voice, jumpy with nerves but still smooth as well brewed coffee, comes over the phone.

“Sugar?”


End file.
